Burned
by Akua
Summary: The Doctor needed someone, but obviously it wasn't Martha Jones.


**Burned**

* * *

Martha Jones had realized early on that she had been the 'rebound'.

She hadn't wanted to believe it for a while, but then she believed it just so that she would have a reason for why The Doctor couldn't love her like she loved him. Like there was a reason she couldn't be good enough for the other.

They had met with his hearts beating in time under her hands and his lips fiercely on her own—she would have traveled with him forever, if he would have let her. If he had loved her like she had loved him. Because they were so good together. They had had adventure together. And they obviously cared for each other considering the multiple times their lives had been in danger and then they had saved one another.

But, of course... the realization that they would never fully fit together had come to Martha when the Doctor had temporarily sealed himself away in that wretched watch. She had stayed by his side faithfully, of course. Martha had followed The Doctor's commandments faithfully as the days stretched on and on in their existence of make-believe. She had taken on the role of his servant worker girl and stayed by his side as he had asked. And then she had waited and watched as the other him had had his dreams. She had watched as he slowly fell in love with someone that wasn't her. Despite being by his side the entire time his eyes (his unclouded mortal eyes that had no memory of Rose) had slipped right past Martha Jones for someone else.

Martha had a feeling that Rose had been blond.

Rose had probably been blond, and that love at first sight has to be true to explain this.

Martha Jones had been the rebound—and this led her to where she was. Martha stared at the TARDIS from outside. She knew that the Doctor was inside, she could practically hear the other running around, exclaiming his brilliance to any who would listen. And there was always someone willing to listen. Martha would always be willing to listen. Martha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as if the act itself could slow down this inevitable end.

She took a moment to remember what the TARIDS and The Doctor first meant to her. How Martha herself had changed since she had met the Doctor. She thought of it all as her cell phone burned in her pocket and all she could hear was her own voice in her head screaming 'GET._ OUT'. GET OUT_.

Martha Jones had grown as a person since she had met the Doctor. (GET. OUT.)

He had shown her more of the Universe then she would have gotten to see otherwise. (_GET OUT_.)

She had saved the world. (_**GET OUT**_)

But above all else, Martha Jones was a doctor herself. Perhaps only in training and she wasn't the doctor that fixes the universe or time, but she was going to be a doctor. She had spent time with The Doctor and even she could see all of the holes and cracks that existed within him. And she had tried to heal them as any self respecting doctor would try. She had seen another person hurting and she had done her best to stop the pain and sooth away the memory of it.

But every time she tried to fill in those cracks, they merely seemed to get deeper. When she tried to fill herself in to the holes that existed in the Doctor's hearts, he would whisper 'Rose' and she recoiled as if he had burned her. Martha Jones had found that the memory of Rose was stronger then she could have ever imagined. And Martha was not going to be able to compete with a memory.

After all, when one remembers the memory of those who have passed on to somewhere else, one only remembers the good times. Rose was a memory. But Martha Jones was a human being with all of the flaws that that entailed. And even Martha, who loved herself and knew she was strong—even she could not fight imagined perfection. (Because there would _always_ be a snide voice in Martha's head that would always exclaim that no human being could be as brilliant as The Doctor assumed Rose was...)

The time she had spent with the Doctor would never be forgotten. She had grown stronger for it all. For the traveling and the danger—she had grown as a person. Her skills had been put to the test. And she was more aware and more confident in herself then she had ever been before. She had walked the Earth itself and had whispered belief in to the ears of all that had listened... and then she had _won_. She had _saved_ the Earth._ She had saved the Doctor._

The Doctor needed someone, but obviously it wasn't Martha Jones.

No, the Doctor needed his Rose or someone else that could compete with a memory that strong.

Martha reached out and grasped the warm handle of the TARDIS in her hand and pushed it open. She did it normally, quietly relishing the feeling because she knew that this was the last. The last time she would step in to the TARDIS as The Doctor's companion. She might return one day, but even then she would not be the same. And her existence in relation to The Doctor would also not be the same.

She saw him tilt around the consul of the TARDIS, his eyebrows raising as he took her in and the excitement finally caught up with him. "Al_right_ then! Off we go!" And he was up and about and already moving. The Doctor was always doing that, always running. Martha had first thought that it was just his special brand of crazy, of the excitement that always dogged the Doctor's steps.

But no. She knew that he was just running.

He was running from memories.

But she let him run, she let him run in circles as he listed out enticing possibilities before her. Star-fire and time travel and beauty—he was so caught up in himself he hardly noticed the silence on her part. His eyes were already dreaming of the future as he moved. Hands waving. Hearts most likely beating double as he whirled. It was easy to see when he noticed the silence.

The expression fell, and his voice cracked on his common phrase of "..brilliant..." It cracked and warbled like a hurt thing. His expression was gone and it was only his eyes. His too big eyes as he stared down at her. Martha could see it in his expression.

Martha was breaking his hearts. _(...although not in the way she had thought she would...)_

But Martha wasn't doing this on purpose. Not on purpose. Not in revenge for the fact that he had already broken her single heart. Broken it and crushed it beneath his heel.

He leaned against the consul of the TARDIS, as if seeking the comfort of it's warmth to keep him up.

"... Okay." His voice went deep, and what Martha wouldn't give to hear him talk forever.

But.. no. _GET OUT._ Martha needed to get out of this now. "I just can't." Her voice was thick as she stared at the other hard. Memorizing him for those future moments when she would think and look back on to her time with the Doctor. Of course she would think back and wonder 'what if'. But Martha knew herself better now, and she would never question this choice. It was for the best. And often times a wound will hurt more before it can really heal.

She knew that she had to pull away from the other—Martha needed to heal from her metaphorical wound to the heart. To fill in her own cracks. And to do so, she needed to stop chasing after The Doctor.

All the same, Martha presented her excuses before the other. To soften the blow. She needed to finish her education. Her family was traumatized... just excuses. It was always excuses.

But then he said "thank you," and all Martha wanted to do was cry.

They hugged and Martha closed her eyes and remembered herself as she was. The time she had spent with the Doctor, it was impossible to remember how many days, weeks or even months that they had been together. When you travel through time it is impossible to know just how much time was really going. Martha was a creature of time, and she had lost the fear of it when she had traveled with the Doctor (who was a being that was above something so low as time). She thought of their time together now, and wondered how much living she had gotten done in a time that seemed so short. How much of her lifetime had the Doctor taken over?

How much of his lifetime had she occupied?

He had taught her how to live. How to be strong. She would forever be grateful for it.

So Martha hugged him hard and tight and remembered a forever that could have been had things been different. Had he been more willing to let himself be fixed, things could have been different.

But at the same time, this end for them was partially Martha's fault as well. Because it wasn't healthy, having the urge to 'fix' someone. And no healthy relationship could last like that. You were supposed to love someone as they were, not who they could be. And especially not your own opinion of who they could be.

Really, this was for the best. For both of them. For Martha, to find someone who she didn't feel the need to be a doctor to. And for the Doctor himself, to find someone that could unselfishly heal the Doctor of all of his hurts without seeking something in return.

They parted—and Martha was not second best. Not to Rose. Not to the Doctor. She kissed his cheek and bid farewell to has beens and could haves...

But even that wasn't enough. She fled—but she felt so unexplained. _So she came back._

And she told him the story of her friend(a story of a real friend but it was being used as a metaphor for herself in a way that wouldn't make her break down in utter tears as she tore would the last few parts of her heart that really romantically loved The Doctor)—and she told him the words that ran through her head.

"And this is me... getting out..." She told him, and she knew he understood. It was in his big, expressive eyes. Martha was always so easily able to read them, especially when The Doctor was being so raw with his emotions. The Doctor understood why she was leaving in the same way that he understood why he wouldn't be chasing after her. It was like a pained weight had been lifted from the both of them. Some hidden tension that had settled there since the beginning dissipated and it was just them. Just The Doctor and Martha Jones. The Doctor and his Companion as even that came to an end.

She lobbed the cell phone at him, told him to come running—grinned through the pain and didn't say goodbye. This wasn't goodbye. No, this was a 'see you later' and she hoped that the other stumbled upon a new companion that could bring even The Doctor some kind of comfort.

"I'll see you again." Martha had never spoken more truer words than that.

She made sure not to turn around this time. Kept all of the still unspoken words between them silent in her heart and she left.

Martha Jones had known for a long time that she had been the rebound for the Doctor.

And this was her, all the stronger for it.

* * *

**A/N:** Another DW oneshot. I'm on a two week winter vacation from school. So here is a drabble about the end of Martha Jones as the companion to the Doctor. I feel like I will probably write more of these whenever I get in the mood. I hope someone enjoyed this.


End file.
